


Whatever You Need I’m Here For You

by yourethelmaandimlouise



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Fluff, Funny, M/M, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourethelmaandimlouise/pseuds/yourethelmaandimlouise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which you had a shitty day at work and Dean turns out to be a great listener.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever You Need I’m Here For You

**Author's Note:**

> Made for beakaleak32 on tumblr bc she was having a tough time at work, and then adapted to general audiences. Hope you enjoy it :)

“Y/N! Y/N. y/n. Y/N get over here!” Dean is slurring. Only slightly, but considering his vast and seemingly immeasurable tolerance for alcohol, this is quite impressive. Almost impressive enough to shock you out of your funk, but alas, it would take an even greater miracle than Dean’s poor liver working overtime to do so. Not wanting to ruin the mood however, you paste on a smile, throw your coat somewhere near the coatrack Dean put up in the bunker on one of his spring cleaning happy homemaker phases (which in truth freaked you out as much as warmed your heart, not that you would admit to either), and trudge on down to your bedroom. 

Once there you promptly slam the door and flop facedown on your bed with a deep sigh. Finally, some peace and quiet after one long aggravating day in a series of them. Tiptoeing along the precipice of what you can already feel will be an epic sleep sesh—unattractive drooling, eye gunk, the whole shebang—it all comes rushing back. Today was just The Worst. Still facedown and in your work clothes you feel around above your head until your hand hits a pillow, and you scream into it. Frustrated beyond belief once again, and not even sweet sweet slumber a comfort available to you tonight. 

Dean abruptly jerks his head up at the sound of the muffled yell coming from your bedroom. Suddenly stone-cold sober, he palms the gun that is never farther than a couple of feet from his person and moves stealthily to your room. He figures if you’re already yelling, it must be something bad. And to be able to have gotten into the bunker, of all places? He clenches his jaw, doubles his speed, and eases your door open as quietly as he can. 

You look up from trying to set the lamp on fire with the sheer force of your glare to see a dumbfounded Dean holding a gun at your door and just about jump out of your skin. Your hand flies up to your chest and you suck in a gigantic breath. 

“Dean?? What are you doing???” 

“Uh.” He clears his throat, cheeks slightly flushing, and says, “Everything okay? I heard some yelling. Thought something might’ve gotten to you.” 

“In the bunker?” 

“Heh. Might be drunker than I thought.” 

Fondly, you roll your eyes at him, lips fighting against the grin you always seem to wear around him. “Go to sleep, Dean. Everything’s alright.” 

He observes you for a few seconds. “Yeah. Not so sure about that.” Carefully tucking his gun into the back of his pants, he crosses his arms and looks down at you sitting on your bed, arms flexing in a way that you are sure is supposed to be assertive but is in fact all kinds of distracting. 

After a moment of you staring blankly back at him with an eyebrow raised, he pulls up a chair, sits on it backwards, facing you with his head resting on arms crossed along the top of it and says, “Talk to me.” All earnest green eyes and set jaw, and you know there’s no way you’re getting out of this. 

You take a deep breath and let it all out in a whoosh. 

“That bad, huh?” 

“You have no idea.” And so begin your tales of woe from work. You find that explaining each scenario is actually quite cathartic, especially with such an attentive audience. The stories you tell build and build and you’re pleasantly surprised to note that they have a particularly engaging ebb and flow. Comparing your coworker to Lucifer and his inexplicably dramatic daddy issues has Dean in fits of laughter that you can’t help but join at one point. 

All the stories culminate, however, with your absolutely horrible day. Your previously large hand gestures and near shouts have reduced to a simmering righteous anger spit out through gritted teeth. Back rigid, you look over to find that at some point Dean has come to sit beside you on your bed, leaning on his hands behind his back and staring at the ceiling in sympathetic anger and disappointment. In the understatement of the year, he turns his head to look at you and says, “Dude. That sucks.” 

He then turns fully to you and reaches for your hands, carefully unclenching your fists and smoothing his thumbs over the indentations your fingernails left. Moving both your hands into one of his, he uses his free hand to gently cup your cheek. He lifts your head enough to make eye contact with him. You two are closer than you thought. 

“Alright Y/N,” he says seriously. You can feel his breath ghosting along your lips. “I’m gonna need some names.” 

So not what you thought you were going to hear right then. Confused, you pull back and say, “What? Why? What?” 

“If I’m gonna kick some ass, I’m gonna need some names.” 

“Dean, I don’t need you to-“ 

“Nah, Y/N. Anything that makes you this mad deserves to be ganked once and for all. I swear to god I’ll find every last one and—“ 

You start laughing. Dean looks as if he’s not sure whether to be worried or offended. 

“No, no,” you gasp. “I’m fine. It’s just—“ You pause to wipe away the tears forming at the corners of your eyes and take a look at Dean who is now wearing a slightly bewildered expression. “It’s just, can you imagine the look on their faces? A big scary hunter showing up at work, guns blazing, threatening to,” And here you break down laughing again. Dean begins to snicker. “To gank them? They’d be scared shitless, Dean. Oh my god, I’m so tempted to take you up on that offer.” 

You can feel Dean’s shoulders shake as he chuckles right alongside you. Still laughing softly he says, “I’m serious though, Y/N. Whatever you need I’m here for you.” 

The mood shifts into something quieter and sweeter. You smile up at him and he cups your cheek again as the last of the tension drains from your body. His presence alone is enough to calm you, but his camaraderie and casual offers of violence in your name buoy your spirits more than you knew anything could.

“Yeah, Dean, I know.” 

You reach up to kiss him, and the only frustrating thing here is that both of you can’t seem to stop smiling. All in all, not such a bad problem to have and not such a bad ending to a truly frustrating day. 

And the night? Well, that promises to only get better.

**Author's Note:**

> I also take requests on my tumblr yourethelmaandimlouise! I'll do just about any pairing in the supernatural fandom, not just reader inserts, and would love to fulfill some requests. Just message me and I'll see what I can do!


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